Finrod's Rematch
by Cirdan
Summary: This tale is AU. Ch 1: Galadriel convinces her brother Finrod to meet the Fellowship. Finrod challenges Sauron to a rematch. Ch 2: Finrod shows up and challenges Sauron to a very different kind of rematch at the end of the Second Age.
1. Finrod's Rematch, end of the Third Age

Standard disclaimer: All the characters, locations, some quotes, and the initial conception of this world belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, whether it be from Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, or The History of Middle-earth Volumes I-XII.

Warning: This tale is AU.

Dedication: This is not the birthday fic for Finch, but it is a birthday fic for Finch (June 7).

**Finrod's Rematch, end of the Third Age**

"Won't you take my place? Please! I'm just not feeling well." Galadriel made the most adorable pleading face possible for her, and Finrod could almost imagine her ears drooping sideways if she'd been in one of Maglor's drawings. 

"Are you sure you aren't feigning, Younger Sister?" Finrod asked critically. "You're never unwell. You're an Elf." 

"But all those years in Middle-earth has taken its toll on me," Galadriel said. She held the back of her hand to her forehead. "I feel myself faded and tired. I cannot do this. I need your help. Please, Ingoldo!" She batted her eyelashes at him, and her eyes were big and watery. 

"All right," Finrod conceded. "How can I deny my dearest sister?" He stroked her golden hair gently. "But, Altariel, you know there will be consequences." 

"You'll do fine," Galadriel said confidently. (In fact, she seemed suspiciously well now that Finrod had agreed to her plot.) She slid Nenya from her finger. "Here, you'll need this too. The Ringbearer must be able to see it upon your hand." 

Finrod slipped Nenya onto his finger, and it fit perfectly, as was the nature of the Rings of Celebrimbor. "Somehow, I think I'm going to regret this." 

--- 

"Here dwell Celeborn and Galadriel. It is their wish that you should ascend and speak to them," Haldir said to the Fellowship. 

Above them, Celeborn knocked upon his wife's door to see if she was ready yet to meet their guests. As was the weakness of all women of all races: she took forever to prepare for official meetings. "Dearest Galadriel, are you ready?" Celeborn asked. The door opened. 

"I'm ready." 

Celeborn made a strange strangled noise. The person before him was most definitely not his wife. Though the person's hair was of a deep gold and his voice exceedingly fair, he was a man. His pure white robes were similar to those of Galadriel's but not exactly the same, and in almost all ways, he seemed to be like his wife, but Celeborn wasn't an idiot, and he knew his wife intimately enough to recognize the difference between Galadriel and an imposter. Celeborn grabbed the play-acting spy's shoulder and shook him. 

"Who are you? And what have you done with my wife?" Celeborn demanded hotly. 

"Oh, come now, Celeborn, you should know me." The fake Galadriel brushed Celeborn's hand off him. "It is I, Finrod Felagund, son of Finarfin and brother of Galadriel." 

Celeborn's eyes widened. "What are you doing here?" He looked past Finrod into Galadriel's dressing room. "And where is Galadriel?" 

Finrod scratched his head, though he was careful not to muss his beautiful golden tresses. "Well, you see, Galadriel said she was feeling unwell and asked me to meet the Fellowship of the Ring in her place. While I didn't believe her for an instant, I couldn't deny my beloved sister's request, especially since she gave me those little baby elfling faces." 

Celeborn hit his head to his palm. "You're joking!" Finrod shrugged helplessly. "You're not." Celeborn hung his head. "I was afraid something like this would happen. Galadriel is so sensitive to criticism. She's used to everyone liking her and praising her. I think she dislikes her current reputation as a Witch of the Golden Woods." 

"Well, play along," Finrod said as he took Celeborn's arm. Oddly enough, Finrod did so in just the same manner that Galadriel would have, and because Galadriel was tall for a woman, Finrod seemed exactly the right size next to Celeborn. "We don't have a choice now. The Fellowship is coming." 

Celeborn groaned but allowed himself to be dragged out by Finrod. 

--- 

Upon a wide wooden platform, Celeborn and Finrod sat under the bough of the mighty mallorn tree. 

"Sit down beside my chair, Frodo of the Shire," Celeborn said. "When all have come, we will speak together." Besides, Celeborn had no desire to have Frodo sit next to Finrod, for he feared that the Ringbearer might detect the deceit of Finrod. Celeborn greeted the other members of the Fellowship as well, and he was surprised that even Aragorn gave no hints of recognizing Finrod for what he was: a fake Galadriel. 

When he had finished speaking, Finrod said, "But where is Gandalf the Grey? He set out with your company yet I know he did not pass the borders of this land. Tell us where he is, for I much desire to speak with him again." Finrod had softened his voice slightly, and even Celeborn found that he could not distinguish between that voice of music and that of Galadriel's. It was as if Finrod had cast a spell over them all. 

The Fellowship spoke of the fate of Gandalf in Moria. For a moment, Celeborn forgot his dilemma with Finrod and cursed the Dwarves for stirring the Balrog underneath the mountains of Caradhras. And yet Finrod was able to calm him just as Galadriel would have. 

Finrod spoke then to the Fellowship, "Your quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little, and it will fail to the ruin of all." He was, in every way, the perfect Galadriel. "Yet hope remains while all the company is true." 

And with that, Finrod held each of the members of the Fellowship with his eyes. Celeborn had seen Galadriel do this before, but he had not realized, though he should've, that Finrod possessed this same ability to read the minds and hearts of others. Rather than become uncomfortable under his gaze, love filled the eyes of the Fellowship. Their test didn't seem like much of a test at all. In fact, Celeborn had the uncomfortable feeling that his authority as the Lord of Lorien was being usurped. Celeborn thought for a moment that Finrod would throw down his crown, only to have it picked up by Frodo, who would refuse to let him go forth as a beggar that is thrust from the gates. Celeborn shook his head. No, that wasn't right. Of course Galadriel wasn't going forth to Mordor. That quest belonged to the Ringbearer. Was Finrod testing his own brother-in-law? 

At last, Finrod spoke anew and invited the Fellowship to rest under the golden trees. 

--- 

Frodo recited his lament for Gandalf to Sam. Finrod made his presence known then. He spoke no word but beckoned to them. Down a long flight of stairs, Finrod led them into a deep green hallow. He filled a basin of silver to the brim with water from the stream and then breathed on it. 

"Here is the Mirror of Galadriel," Finrod said. "I have brought you here that you may look in it, if you will." 

"What shall we look for? And what shall we see?" Frodo asked hesitantly 

"What you will see if you leave the Mirror free to work, I cannot tell, for it shows things that were, and things that are, and things that yet may be. But which it is that he sees, even the wisest cannot tell. Do you wish to look?" Finrod then extended the same invitation to Sam. Sam was eagerness to see elf-magic "Do not touch the water," he warned them. 

Sam, it seemed, saw visions of Frodo in Mordor and evil things happening in the Shire. He seemed quite shaken after the experience. 

Finrod sought to calm him. "Remember that the Mirror shows many things, and not all have yet come to pass. Some never come to be unless those that behold the visions turn aside from their paths to prevent them." Finrod turned them to Frodo and asked gently, "Do you wish now to look Frodo?" Now that Sam had looked, perhaps Frodo would be more inclined for the venture. 

Frodo accepted and looked into the water. In the end, he saw the eye of fire. He felt the Ring about his neck growing heavier and the chain, around his neck pull him down toward the water. 

"Do not touch the water," Finrod said. 

Frodo tore himself away. He looked them to Finrod and most of all to the Ring of Adament about his finger. In Frodo's mind, Finrod read the full import of Nenya, the Ring of Water, one of the three elven-rings that had not been tainted by the Dark Lord. More importantly, he knew now the maker of the One Ring. Though Galadriel had told him of the mission of the Fellowship of the Ring and the danger of the wholly evil One Ring, she had neglected to tell him one very important thing: the identity of the Dark Lord. 

"I know you now," Frodo said. "I saw it in the Mirror. Gimli sang of you when we were in Khazad-dum: 

'The world was fair, the mountains tall,   
In Elder Days before the fall   
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond   
And Gondolin, who now beyond   
The Western Seas have passed away:   
The world was fair in Durin's Day.' 

"You are not the Lady of Lothlorien but the mighty King of Nargothrond of Elder Days of old." Frodo then drew the One Ring from about his neck and held it out to him. "You are wise and fearless, King of Nargothrond. I will give you the One Ring if you ask for it. It is too great a matter for me." 

"Wise the King Finrod may be, yet here he met his match in courtesy. Gently are you revenged for my testing of your heart at our first meeting. You begin to see with a keen eye." Finrod's gaze was fixed on the One Ring, and his eyes were no longer gentle but bright and terrible. It seemed to Frodo that he could see a great light shining from within the Elf, and his body seemed as nothing more than a thin veil. Sam took a step back, but Frodo stood firm, with Ring in hand and outstretched. 

"I do not deny that my heart has greatly desire to ask what you offer." Finrod came to where Frodo stood and towered over him. "For many long years I have pondered what I might do should there be a chance to challenge Sauron once more. And behold! It is brought within my grasp!" Finrod knelt then before the Hobbit. He closed Frodo's hand over the One Ring and was careful not to touch it himself. "But I believe that Elrond was right. I think that the task of destroying the Ring is appointed for you, Frodo." 

--- 

Celeborn stared incredulously at Finrod. "Let me get this straight: you want to go and challenge Sauron?" Finrod nodded. "Are you crazy?" 

"Why can't I go with Frodo?" Finrod challenged. 

"Because, the time of the Elves is over," Galadriel said. "We are not meant to interfere with the world now. We are but shadows of ourselves, faded with time. This test belongs to the younger races, and especially to Men, and they will inherit from us these lands." 

"Men?" Finrod's golden hair blazed and sparked with energy. "I myself helped to lead Men forth from the Darkness. I will not abandon them now. Besides, Sauron and I contested our strength in the First Age. You cannot deny me the right to a rematch. Even if the Elves are not permitted to act openly in the Third Age, the laws of warfare permit me to challenge him anew. Also, I am sworn by my ring to aid any of his descendants should they be in need, and I see clearly that the very same Ring of Barahir is upon the hand of Aragorn, kin of Beor and of Barahir." 

"And what if you lose again?" Celeborn said. "Then what will you do?" 

"Then I lose, and the younger races are free to try their hand at destroying the Dark Lord," Finrod said evenly. "I have died and return. I do not fear dying a second time." 

"You realize, of course, that Sauron can't again strive with you in songs of power. He is only a fiery eye and has no mouth," Galadriel said very rationally. 

"He'll find a way to meet me again," Finrod said confidently. "Then we will see who has the mastery." 

Celeborn threw his arms into the air. "I suppose there's nothing we can do to stop you." 

"Not a thing," Finrod said with a grin. 

--- 

Finrod proposed to aid the Fellowship, and Frodo was more than happy to accept the assistance of a great elven-king of old. Finrod then bade them wait a while, for he could see with his far sight that Gandalf, who had been known as Olorin in the West, had returned. When Gandalf at last arrived in Lorien, he was none to pleased to hear the change in plans, but he yielded in the end to Finrod, for Finrod had great power of persuasion. 

Beneath the Misty Mountains, they came upon a company of Orcs and slew them all in their camp by night. They took their gear and their weapons. By the arts of Finrod, their own forms and faces were changed into the likeness of Orcs. The hobbits were very amused to be disguised as such tall creatures, but they found that they could not see through the illusion even to recognize each other. Thus disguised, they came far upon the eastward road. Before the Gates of Mordor, Finrod removed his own disguise and those of his companions. Only Frodo and Sam remained cloaked in the guise of Orcs, and they rode together upon Shadowfax, who was disguised as a black horse like the ones in the service of the Dark Lord. 

Finrod sounded his horn and smote once upon the Black Gates. There were many guards about, but none dared to attack Finrod, for a great light shone in his eyes and, though the legends of the Valar had been forgotten in these dark days, memories of Orome stirred in the blood of the Orcs so that they fled. 

"Sauron! Do you remember me? It is I, Finrod Ingoldo, and I am also called Prince of the Noldor, King of Nargothrond of old, Nom, Felagund, and Friend-of-Men." His voice rang clearly, and by his powers was his words heard all throughout Mordor. "I come here today to challenge you to a rematch. Come forth, Lord of Slaves, unless you are craven." He gestured to the Fellowship. "Let these people stand as witnesses for all the free peoples of Middle-earth." 

The Black Gate shuddered and opened, and Frodo and Sam, still disguised as Orcs, slipped through. The servants of Sauron knew not what to expect, for the Dark Lord was said to have only a portion of his power. A figure, clad all in black, rode out from the gates. 

"I am the Mouth of Sauron," he announced. 

"I wish to challenge Sauron himself, not some lesser minion," Finrod said. 

"And so you will." This second time when the Mouth of Sauron spoke, his voice was markedly different. 

It seemed to all assembled that they heard a deep echoing from the depths of the black pits of Mordor, and they felt as if their wills were being sucked underneath those tar pits. Merry and Pippin found themselves quaking and falling to their knees from the sheer weight of that horrible voice. Legolas was moved to tears, and it seemed to him that he could see before his very eyes the twisting of fair Greenwood to the decaying and dying forest of Mirkwood. But he stood tall despite his tears. Gimli heard for the first time the cries of his kinsmen as they were tormented beyond endurance by the Balrog, and he would have cried out for them had he been of lesser strength. Aragorn and Boromir gritted their teeth and endured their own visions of the defeat of Men, and it was only with great effort that they did not succumb to the fear that they felt in their hearts. Even Gandalf seemed hard put to maintain some measure of his composure. 

Only Finrod stood completely unshaken. "I will send you to join Morgoth beyond the Doors of the Night, and there everlastingly your naked self shall endure the torment of his scorn, pierced by his eyes. 

Finrod launched then into song to contest the song of wizardry that the Mouth of Sauron had cast over his companions. Long they strove in songs of power, and many visions, both fair and terrible, were seen by the Fellowship and servants of Sauron alike. No longer was Finrod moved to weakness by the Kinslaying at Alqualonde for he had been absolved of his guilt during his time in the Halls of Mandos. But Sauron knew of Finrod's love for Middle-earth, and he tormented the elven-king of old with images of the hurts that had been dealt to the lands since his death. At last, Finrod knew the battle to be at an end. And so he ceased his tireless fight with Sauron and turned to an entirely different song: 

"Long live the Halflings! Praise them with great praise!   
Cuio i Pheriain anann! Aglar'ni Pheriannath!   
Praise them with great praise, Frodo and Samwise!   
Daur a Berhael, Conin en Annun! Eglerio!   
Praise them!   
Eglerio!   
A laita te, laita te! Andave laituvalmet!   
Praise them!   
Cormacolindor, a laita tarienna!   
Praise them! The ring-bearers, praise them with great praise!" 

When Finrod first began the song, few understood the meaning of his words. Then rising swiftly up, far above the Towers of the Black Gate, high above the mountains, a vast soaring darkness sprang into the sky, flickering with fire. The earth groaned and quaked. Finrod did not stop his song of power though, and as he continued to sing, far away, now dim, now growing, now mounting to the clouds, there came a drumming rumble, a roar, a long echoing roll of ruinous noise. Then, black against the pall of cloud, there rose a huge shape of shadow, impenetrable, lightning-crowned, filling all the sky. Enormous it reared above the world, and stretched out towards them a vast threatening hand, terrible but impotent: for even as it leaned over them, a great wind took it, and it was all blown away, and passed. All that was left was the mighty voice of Finrod as he completed his praise to the Halflings. He finished, and then a hush fell. 

"The realm of Sauron is ended!" said Gandalf at last. "The Ringbearer has fulfilled his Quest." 

--- 

Notes: The first song is the "Song of Durin" from FotR. The second is "Praise the Halflings" from RotK. There's also some other quotes from FotR (the Fellowship's meeting with Finrod based off their meeting with Galadriel and the Mirror of Galadriel episode) and from RotK (Gandalf's end line). As always, all credit really belongs to Tolkien. 


	2. Finrod's Rematch, end of the Second Age

Standard disclaimer: All the characters, locations, some quotes, and the initial conception of this world belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, whether it be from Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, or The History of Middle-earth Volumes I-XII.

Warning: This tale is AU.

Dedication: This is not the birthday fic for Finch, but it is a birthday fic for Finch (June 7).

**Finrod's Rematch, end of the Second Age**

The armies of Gil-galad and Elendil had laid siege to Mordor for seven years. "A year for each star of the Sickle of the Valar," Elrond said. And he predicted that the war would not last much longer. Sauron was at the end of his resources. Gil-galad nodded to this and did not let his guard down. 

Perhaps on the very eve of the day when Sauron would have come forth to attack Gil-galad in desperate combat, Finrod came to the camp of the Elves. He was quickly brought before Gil-galad, for his hair was that of the golden Vanyar and the light in his eyes was that of one who had died and returned. No one knows what was spoken between Gil-galad and Finrod. 

The next day, Finrod rode out to the Black Gates of Mordor. He was not shot by the Orcs that guarded the Gate, for something of his gentle nature stirred something in the Orcs. They remembered that they did not want to be serving the Dark Lord and only did so out of fear. They also wanted this war to end. And so Finrod came to the Gates and rapped on it with the butt end of his sword. 

"Sauron! I know you can hear me in there," Finrod said. "I challenge you." There was no answer. Gil-galad had predicted as much, but Finrod had a plan to draw the Dark Lord out. "I propose a contest that would require neither combat nor songs of power. Let us play what the humans call 'strip poker.' The loser of each round takes off one article of clothing, and in the end, the loser's spirit will depart from his body." 

Finrod dismounted then and turned around for Sauron to see the goods. His golden hair twirled as he spun, and Elrond, who was watching from a safe distance with a number of other Elves, groaned for he knew that Sauron would not be able to resist this. Finrod was dressed in armor, but his fair form was still obvious beneath that metal. Sauron had seen him naked before, when Finrod had been kept as prisoner in the dungeons of Minas Tirith on the Isle of Sirion. Beren and Finrod's ten companions had also been stripped so that it would be less obvious who was the object of Sauron's desires, but Finrod had apparently read his mind. 

Sauron came forth in his black armor, and Elrond almost suspected that he had added the cape and extra arm and leg guards so that he would have an added advantage over Finrod. 

"Fine. Strip poker," Sauron said in his dark voice. "Folding counts as losing. Here, before many people, so that there will be no foul play." 

"You're more likely to play foul than I," Finrod said. "Iluvatar be our witness." He drew out an unopened deck of cards and cut the wrapping of the deck with his ring. Smoothly, he opened the package of cards with one hand and then handed it to Sauron to check the cards. Sauron flipped through the deck, nodded, and handed it back to Finrod. 

"Who shall be the dealer?" Sauron asked. 

"Well, there is no neutral party, so I propose that we use Elrond, for he will deal fairly and is even descended from Luthien the Fair," Finrod said. In addition, Finrod undoubtedly knew that Elrond would not cease the game if Finrod began to lose. 

"Very well." 

Elrond came forth, and a table was set between the two. They began to play, and it became quickly obvious that Sauron's armor was made of many plates whereas Finrod's was far simpler. The Elves groaned as Finrod became slowly stripped to the waist while Sauron was still almost fully covered except for his hands. They took a break then, and as Finrod drank some water to refresh himself (for it was very hot and dry in the land of Mordor), many came to ask him to cease this challenge. 

"I will follow this game to the bitter end, if bitter it must be," Finrod said. His golden hair flowed about his bare shoulders, and even his fellow Elves had trouble containing themselves, for he was truly very fair and his mild manner made him all the more appealing. "I have already died once. I do not fear dying again." 

"It's not death that worries me," Gil-galad said gruffly. "Before you are forced to leave your body, you will be stripped down to, well, your bare body." 

Finrod shrugged. "It is the price of such a dangerous contest." 

They returned then to the game, and Finrod hit a lucky streak. Though he lost his boots and the armor about his legs (he wore pants underneath his armor to prevent chafing), Sauron had also become stripped to his undergarments. Oddly enough, Sauron chose to keep his helmet over taking off his socks. The tension was high, not the least because of the fair form of Finrod Felagund. 

"He's still wearing a lot more than you," Gil-galad said worriedly. "Are you sure you don't want to turn back?" 

"Positive." 

The third round of the game of strip poker began, and now luck seemed to be on neither side. Each lost progressively more clothing, and the Elves were in an uproar when Finrod was finally forced to take off even his underwear. (The Orcs were in no less of an uproar, but that was for a different reason entirely.) Finrod slowly and reluctantly slid the last of his undergarment down his legs and added it to his pile of clothes. Sauron still wore his helmet, but there was no mistaking his perverse pleasure at this, for he had also lost all of his armor and his pants bulged with unhidden glee. Finrod pushed his golden hair back, though perhaps he should not have for his raised arms revealed the flexing muscles of his stunning body. 

Finrod sat again in his place with only the faintest blush upon his cheeks. The next round he lost would force him to flee his body. Though he was laid bare before many eyes, his eyes narrowed and he turned his full attention to the game at hand. He was rewarded for his valor, and Sauron was forced even to remove his helmet to reveal his dark face. He had lost his ability to assume fairer forms since the Fall of Numenor. Still, Sauron had his underwear on while Finrod had nothing at all, not even his earrings. All those upon the battlefield held their breath as they watched the cards being dealt. 

Finrod won the round. Sauron fumed but took off his underwear. It hardly mattered. He was nothing to look at. Now, both Finrod and Sauron were naked, and the next game would determine who would leave his body. Elrond wiped the sweat from his brow then passed out one card after another. 

"You lose, Finrod." Sauron grinned and revealed his cards. He had a straight flush: 9, 10, Jack, Queen, and King of clubs. 

Finrod rose from his seat and leaned over to get a better view of Sauron's cards, and his face was unreadable (perhaps because everyone was staring at his rear). Indeed, it was a legitimate straight flush. He sighed and then straightened himself. 

"The Curse of the Noldor..." Finrod said solemnly. Sauron grinned as he looked upon Finrod's naked flesh. "The Curse of the Noldor," Finrod began anew, "ended in the First Age." He slapped his cards down. "Read 'em and weep, Dark Lord." 

Everyone gasped as Finrod revealed a royal flush: 10, Jack, Queen, King, and Ace of hearts. 

Sauron upturned the table in his fury. "NO!!!" But he could not stop his spirit from leaving his body, for Finrod had invoked the name of Iluvatar at the start of the game. Sauron's face became twisted with pain as he tried to hold on, but his dark eyes suddenly went blank, and his body crumbled into ashes. 

Elrond hurriedly handed Finrod his cloak, and Finrod covered himself and continued to gaze at the ashes of Sauron that were being borne away by the wind. 

"How did you know you would win?" Elrond asked. 

"I didn't," Finrod admitted. "But the Curse of the Noldor long ago spoke of treason of kin unto kin, and since my return from the Halls of Mandos, I have learned to trust in the Royal House of the Noldor." 


End file.
